Following his usual routine, Rowan traversed the base, getting updates and performing small inspections when needed. Curtis remained at his side, as always, feeding him any additional necessary updates as they went: supplies, munitions, troop numbers, and anything else relating to base operations.
Rowan stepped aside and observed a platoon as they jogged past. Their uniforms were crisp, their movements in sync. He nodded with approval before turning to his friend. “Have you sent requests to Boston, as I asked?”
“Every day, sir,” Curtis said.
Rowan sighed and shook his head. “They’re too passive.”
“My aide has word to find me immediately if anything comes through about Bangor. We’ll hear something eventually. I must be pissing them off by now.”
“Good. They need to remember how to be angry.”
Once the base and barracks were covered, they got into a truck and drove through the region. Rowan continuously scanned the landscape while Curtis drove and talked. They reached the eastern end of Portland’s peninsula, the Eastern Promenade, and Rowan had Curtis stop near the monument displaying the four names the city had been dubbed with during its history. The obelisk was broken and smeared with decades of dirt.
They stepped out of the vehicle, and Rowan walked the length of the overlook before returning to the monument. He paused and turned to look back at the city. He pointed toward Congress Street, which stretched out before him and ran from the Eastern Promenade to the center of the city. “We need to make some changes here.”
Curtis’s comm beeped an urgent notification alert, and he turned it on. “What is it?”
“Sir, we received word from Boston on your inquiries,” his aide said.
Rowan grinned.
“And?” Curtis asked.
“We have permission to raid Bangor in the spring,” the aide said.
Rowan’s grin disappeared, replaced by a scowl.
“Anything else?” Curtis asked.
“No, sir. That’s all the message said.”
“Thank you.” Curtis closed the comm link.
“Spring? Fucking spring?” Rowan shook with anger. The incompetence of his superiors never ceased to amaze him, or to make him livid. “Why so long? What the fuck are they doing in Boston that means I have to wait months before obtaining more resources for the Wardens? Do they not realize this raid is for all loyal Echoes?”
He continued his rant for several minutes before calming. Curtis remained silent during his tirade. He’d said things and issued threats that would get him tried, convicted, and executed for treason if anyone above him heard any of it, but he knew Curtis would never betray him. He took a deep breath to calm himself a bit more before speaking again. “I’ve lost contact with my insider in Bangor.”
“Captured?”
“Not sure. He made such a mess of things, I imagine he failed at the cleanup and got himself killed.”
Curtis shrugged. “You said he was a human.”
“Yeah. Nothing lost there, other than word on what the Brigands and CNA there are up to. The Commonwealth can’t be doing much, since their leaders are somehow bigger idiots than ours. The Brigands, though—I want to know more about their unification attempts. I’ll need another resource.”
“I have an aide that is dying to move into another role. She would do well blending in with the Brigands. She’s smart.”
Rowan shook his head. “She’s an Echo, so she’s not expendable. What about one of your Brigand insiders in the Portland area? I want a human.”
“I have a couple in mind that should do well. I also maintain people in Augusta and Waterville, but there really isn’t anything happening in those towns—not with the Commonwealth or the Brigands.”
Rowan turned to Curtis. “Both towns?”
Curtis nodded.
“And you’re only just now telling me this?”
“Any news they’ve been able to send me has already been passed straight to you, Rowan.”
“Hmm, so the Brigands there are doing absolutely nothing?”
“Correct.”
Rowan grumbled with frustration. “We won’t be doing anything for a while either. Spring. Fuck. The only consolation is that we can hit Augusta and then Waterville on our way north to Bangor. What’s the term for three goals in hockey?”
“Hat trick.”
“Yes! We shall plan for a hat trick in the spring, then, if HQ doesn’t modify our orders.” Rowan smiled. “Back to business. I can barely see the observatory from here; all the trees and old homes and buildings still on this end of the peninsula are in the way. Knock it down, burn it, I don’t care. I want a clear line of sight from the observatory out to sea from any angle. Start at Washington Avenue and level everything from there to the Eastern Promenade. Once the area is cleared, start building a newer, taller tower with better optics. We have forty miles of visibility with the current optics. I want more.” He looked at his friend. “You’re smiling. What?”
“When we returned to the base, I planned to take you out to the fields to show you a new weapon. I think you may have more fun watching it in action on something other than dirt targets.” Curtis turned on his comm. “I’ll let the R&D team know we’re waiting for them out here.”
Thirty minutes later, two trucks arrived. Six Wardens leapt out of the back of each one while the R&D scientists, designated by the green stripe on their uniforms, climbed out of the cabs of the vehicles and gathered near the rear of the trucks. They instructed the troops on how to unload and where to place the crates inside.
One of the scientists brought a grenade launcher to Rowan. He held it out with both hands, like an offering.
Rowan took the weapon and examined it. “Grenade launcher. We have plenty of these.”
“It’s what’s on the inside that counts,” Curtis said with a grin. “Pick your target.”
Rowan lifted the launcher to his shoulder, and his eyes landed on a house on the corner.
“Uh, not that one, sir,” Curtis said. “It’s a bit close.”
“Fine.” Rowan started up the street to find a target far enough away to meet Curtis’s approval. Two blocks up Congress Street, he spotted a square, three-story, red brick building with another two levels of roofing. “That one?”
Curtis nodded. “Perfect.”
Rowan flipped the optics open and aimed the launcher at the center windows of the second level of the structure. He’d launched many quake grenades as a Warden; one could collapse a wooden building, but it took a few hits to bring a brick or stonework building down. He expected to blow out all the windows and maybe part of a side wall with this first grenade.
He squeezed the trigger, and the grenade left the launcher. It shattered the glass window as it entered the building.
For a second, nothing happened.
Then a blast ruptured the brick building from the inside, followed by a secondary blast that brought the structure and the buildings on either side of it down too.
Rowan wobbled from a momentary loss of balance as the ground shook. He stared at the ordinary-looking launcher in his hands. “What the hell was in this thing?” he asked with a wide smile.
“They call it a cluster grenade,” Curtis said. “Two blasts within each of the individual ones you witnessed, so four total. First a sonic pulse, then the typical expansion blast. It’ll easily rupture brick, but it can also take down heavier stone or granite structures. It’s about five times more powerful than a standard quake grenade.”
“It’s perfect!” Rowan strode back down the street and returned the launcher to the scientist who’d given it to him before addressing the R&D team. “Ladies, gentlemen, the cluster grenade is a thing of beauty. Well done! Reload it for me and bring a map. I’ll show you what we’re leveling today.”
When the troops were gathered around him, Rowan traced his finger over the digital map along the streets he’d called out to Curtis earlier. “This is a roughly one-and-half-square-mile area. I want it leveled so nothing obstructs the views of water or land from the observatory.”
“Yes, sir,” they said in unison.
Rowan disliked how much time he’d been spending in his office and in meetings lately. He reveled in this chance to use the new tech. Over the next couple of hours, he destroyed several buildings, and whooped with glee when his troops fired their own weapons. Soon, every structure that stood in the targeted radius had been leveled. He congratulated the research team again before returning to the base with Curtis.
Back at the base, Rowan returned to his office and pulled up his familiar map of Bangor. “I’ll introduce you to our new cluster grenades in the spring,” he said to the map, smiling.